


and you can see the tide move

by Swag_1_Fam_a_Lam



Series: Swag_1's Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Prompt Fill, but it's cute, i guess, i'm going to be honest, light fluff, not sure what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 07:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swag_1_Fam_a_Lam/pseuds/Swag_1_Fam_a_Lam
Summary: When the Bruins finally let them go for the summer, Patrice takes Brad to Spain.





	and you can see the tide move

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with the shortest thing I've ever written :D
> 
> Prompt fill for @Bergays-nose who asked for 37/63, summer vibes and some angst. I'm only 100% sure I ticked off one of these, but enjoy anyway!
> 
> Title from A different Way by Lauv and DJ Snake

  
  
  


The bed faces an open window with a view straight over the sea, which sparkles in the early morning sun. The light streams through, and Brad takes the moment to just bask in the warmth of it. 

Patrice is still asleep, face down on the pillow with the covers half covering his body. He looks almost godlike there, frozen in time in the golden light. But then again, maybe Brad’s just biased. 

It’d been jarring when he’d first woken up, curled up on a bed that wasn’t his in a room he didn’t recognize, but he’d quickly remembered where they were. Patrice had suggested Spain abruptly on evening shortly after the Final, and Brad had seen no reason to say no. 

So he hadn’t.

The villa Pat had booked was right on the seafront, and if he was so inclined Brad could easily clamber out the large window and down onto the beach. He doesn’t though, just sits there covers around his waist, and stares out to sea. 

Back home in Boston he’d be able to hear the sound of cars going by, too loud and sudden to be peaceful. But here there’s only the crashing of the waves and soft rustle of the curtains in the breeze. There’s a calmness that emanates from this place, the likes of which Brad hadn’t felt in months, and some part of him he hasn’t had the time to pay attention to lately, quietens. 

Behind him, Patrice shifts in his sleep.

It’s been a while since they’ve had the time to relax together just the two of them, the season had been stressful enough but the post season- just thinking of it makes his chest tighten.

The final had been devastating to say the least. They’d all been so convinced that they could do it, that this year was their year, only to have everything come slamming back down to earth. Brad had never been in a locker room so lifeless, and he never wants to again. He blames himself in part, although he knows they all do to some degree, and he can't help but wonder if he'd never made that line change maybe things would have been different. Maybe they wouldn't have lost, and maybe Patrice wouldn't have walked out of the locker room without him. 

They’d gone back to their separate apartments that night, at least at first. Even now Brad can remember the agonizing emptiness that had burned at his core as he sat alone in his kitchen, and how no amount of vodka could make it go away. He's old now, in hockey terms anyway, and drinking away his problems was something he'd thought was in the past. It was unpleasant to find out otherwise.

He’d been more than a little drunk by the time he’d given in and called Patrice. He still wasn’t exactly sure what had been said, but not long after that call, Pat had sunk down next to him, unreadable look on his face. The bottle of vodka didn’t last long after that.

The burning feeling hadn’t gone away, but when Brad had crumbled into tears minutes later, Patrice a warm line against his side, it had hurt a little less than before. 

Brad wonders when Patrice will fall apart like that, because he has to soon; the seams holding him together are already at breaking point. He only needs something, anything really, to push him over the edge. Brad tells himself it won’t be his fault that it happens, but even he can’t bullshit himself into believing that. Not today, not yet. 

Eventually, Patrice stirs in his sleep and he opens one eye slowly, gaze flickering around until it lands on Brad.

“Hey there handsome.” Brad murmurs, crawling over the bedspread. 

“Hey,” Patrice says, pushing himself upright and rubbing at the corners of his eyes, “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” He explains, “Just enjoying the view.”

He gestures towards the window, and Pat shifts to look out at the stretch of sea and sand.

Brad takes the time to look him over. The dark marks under Patrice's eyes are a little paler today, the stress lines a little less prominent. It seems like a long time ago last off season, they'd spent the time visiting family and just relaxing. Pat had gone all bronzed in the sun, smiling freely and often - usually at Brad. The Patrice before him now is a far cry from that, thinner and hollower, it's worrying.

“Are you alright?” He asks, but as soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them. He knows what Patrice is like, how he doesn't like to be coddled. Christ the man would play if he was half dead, practically has done before, and would insist the entire time that he was right as rain. 

“What?” Pat blinks at him blearily, not quite awake. 

“Are you alright?” 

A dark look flashes across the other mans face, it’s fleeting, and Brad wonders if maybe he imagined it. There’s no imagining the steely gaze and sharp edge that decorates his voice when he speaks though. “I’m fine Marchy.”

Brad could press the point, could try and get Patrice to open up and tell the truth, probably should. But he won’t.

He’s scared. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to not have Patrice there, to not be with him and with the playoffs things had been tense between them for weeks. Maybe things will blow over, they usually do, but maybe they won’t, maybe this would be the cut off point for them. He’s not keen to find out.

So he doesn’t press it.

“I was just checking,” He says, leaning down to press a kiss against Patrice's cheek, “So what do you want to do today?”

Patrice's face smooths out into something happier, more content, and Brad can breathe a little easier, at least for now. 

“How about we stay in bed for the moment eh? Don’t really feel like moving just yet.” And really Brad has no arguments about that. 

He nods in agreement and buries his head in the crook of Patrice’s neck, trapping him in place with his arms and legs. Patrice kisses the crown of his head, and winds his free arm around Brads back, thumbing stroking between his ribs. They stay like that, entwined in one another for a long time. 

Brad watches the steady back and forth of the waves on the beach, breathes, and tells himself everything will be fine.

He almost believes it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, if you catch any grammatical errors let me know, I was too lazy to read over this one in immense detail.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are adored.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
